


Honey Jar

by kuro49



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs, in bed with my mutant husband, it's a stripping good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Erik weren't magnetic, he would most likely be telepathic then. However, his powers would probably only extend as far as Charles though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey Jar

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired solely by the stripper club scene. Set before Angel walks in to find two men on a bed and then after when she leaves to give the two a little privacy. OTL

There are red curtains pooling at the plush white carpet.

And it is a whole other world.

Their suits are too pristine, their ties are too sharp and there is too much ironic satire in their matching smiles. Their shoulders don't touch but they are close enough as they sit with champagne tingling at the ends of their tongue.

There are twin lamps on both sides glowing a pale yellow white and the glass panes that run from ceiling to floor are tinted. A one-way looking glass where they are on the watching end. Almost a superior point of view.

And then they catch sight of her, a tiny girl with curves at all the right places.

They both quirk their heads at each other because when they see her, she still doesn't see them, just yet. Charles doesn't say anything, he only sits in anticipation.

 

This isn't luck. She isn't chance.

 

He is the one to do this. Charles smiles to himself and offers Erik to do all the talking with a simple sweep of his hand in the air. Because he thinks he doesn't need to lead this time around.

Clad in tight black and too much skin, she sways her hips and the thick lines of her tattoo seem to crawl against the flesh with each step of her black shined heels.

Erik turns back to his friend and his smile widens until it is only white teeth gleaming in the mellow lighting. Her hand touches the sleek door handle on the other side of their world before his words find their way to his tongue. "Watch and learn, Charles."

When the door opens and she finally rests her dark eyes on the pair, she pauses and makes an assessment.

She doesn't like to take her time.

Stepping into the room, she raises her brow at the two men reclining back against the silky sheets. The door finally closes behind her and her lips are full and they curve and curl as they form each word.

"You know it counts double for both, right?"

Charles reads the situation like an open book and although he has thought he can keep it in him, his mouth has already opened on an accord of its own, way before Erik can even inject a word into the room.

"Mmm. No, that won't be necessary. Although I'm sure it would be magical."

Erik doesn't interrupt him, rather he is smooth and collected, as though he has expected this all along. He continues easily, almost like this is meant to be.

"We were thinking more, we'll show you ours, if you show us yours."

Still, the telepath can hear the thought ( _Magical, really, Charles?)_ echoing in Erik's head at his choice of words.

She stares hard at them, and it was an easy second before she lets out a soft laugh. "Baby, that is not the way it works around here."

She is ready to walk out.

And then Erik is snapping his fingers and the ice bucket hovers in the air, steady and sure as he floats the champagne bottle towards himself.

Neither of them directly notes her reaction, instead they turn to each other.

"More tea, vicar?"

"Don't mind if I do."

And even though he is drinking the champagne that Erik is pouring him, he has to lick his lips because it seems to dry right on contact, liquid on the skin of his mouth unlike the deep-set characteristics of honey.

It sticks and slicks but this is light and cool.

Charles realises he is nervous and although he doesn't need to stare to know the giddiness that is running through the young girl's mind, he still feels relief flooding into his senses when he hears the words leave her lips.

"My turn."

She reaches behind her back and frees herself.

The world doesn't see her because she is on the other side of that fragile pane of tinted glass. She flutters her wings and the ground is no longer at her feet.

"How would you like a job where you get to keep your clothes on?"

Charles asks with amusement in his eyes before he is pressing glass to his mouth and taking a glance at the man by his side.

A genuine smile blossoms over her face and she looks almost like the innocent child that has discovered her wings years too early. Her dark eyes wanes, her thick lashes curl. And then she is back on solid ground and the door has opened.

"Stay put and enjoy yourselves a little, I'll go and wrap things up."

She doesn't glance back at the pair because she knows too well that she will be back.

The door clicks shut on a simple command and the two are left alone (together.)

"' _We'll show you ours if you show us yours'_? Really, Erik?" Charles leans back into the plush pillows and stares incredulously at the other who merely shrugs at the surprise in his voice.

Still, it may have been an afterthought for the other who cannot read minds but Charles has been looking down at his own champagne glass when he mumbles a soft comment that doesn't go as unnoticed as he has hoped. "…And I thought I was the rubbish flirt here."

Erik raises an eyebrow at the statement that blends into the bubbly drink they share.

"Really, Charles?" He stares pointedly at his friend with sly intensions lacing at his next words. "So you think something along the lines of: _'why, what a groovy mutation you've got there'_ considerably better?"

It takes a little for Erik's words to sink in because it has been a while (a month or has it already been two?) And then Charles is lifting his head with surprise mingling with the brilliant blue of his eyes.

"How'd—"

A quick dart into the now familiar grounds and when Raven's face surfaces from Erik's memories, Charles can't help but wonder how much more information his sister has offered.

"—Oh."

Charles glances at Erik and sees the amused smirk hiding behind his champagne glass. And really, it is more embarrassment than anything else really that he falls silent.

But Erik has a different way of reading the situation.

It may have been barely a minute before he is gently elbowing him in the sides. When Charles fails to react (he wants to see how far he can take this), Erik nudges his thigh with a knee.

If the room isn't smelling of rose petals and high end perfume, their display is almost childish.

"Charles." _Don't be ridiculous_.

He doesn't verbally say those words, he merely thinks them because he knows how aware Charles can be when he wants to be.

The telepath doesn't say a word, he doesn't even stray a thought into Erik's mind, he only sips at his champagne, tongue tasting at the sparkling honey that runs down his throat.

Erik doesn't see the spark of coy amusement in those blue eyes, he only thinks he has crossed a line.

And aside from the single name that leaves his lips, he can't think of anything else.

"Charles."

It seems like it is the only word he knows.

 

Charles is immediately reeled into Erik's mind, fingers tightening around the neck of the champagnes glass, because it is hardly ever possible, a startling first time. There are a million thoughts that run through a human brain. From natural instincts to their wavering concentrations, no one ever thinks of just one thing.

Charles turns to the other, picks up on the red velvet curtains hanging in the back and then the unnecessarily soft silk sheets of the bed as he shifts. He opens his mouth and for someone with a billion things to say in every situation, he suddenly doesn't know how to respond to someone who is only thinking of him.

Erik's mind doesn't falter, he only raises his champagne glass as a gesture for a toast.

Charles sits still, still startled with the discovery. But his glass is held up and Erik takes the chance to meet him in the middle.

A crisp clink, a curling smile (all teeth and thin lips), and Charles remains speechless with Erik's next words.

"I know you may be a rubbish flirt but that's all just a part of your _groovy_ mutation, Charles."

Because it seems as though Erik has taken the words right out of his mouth.

XXX Kuro


End file.
